


Bubbles and Glitter

by Notoyax17



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Implied Relationships, Misunderstandings, Multi, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-06
Updated: 2016-11-16
Packaged: 2018-04-19 10:27:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4742846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Notoyax17/pseuds/Notoyax17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Apparently group shampoo/condition/shower sessions are not a thing normal friends do.</p><p> </p><p>That awkward moment when everyone thinks showering together = sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this thing save since DECEMBER and have been working on it in chunks. I finally decided to just post the first half as an incentive to finish the second half of this thing.
> 
> Enjoy!

Sam only heard it because he’d been taking a nap on Steve's couch.

 

Well, _his_ couch.

 

Some random Thursday a couple of months ago (six months and four days, but who's counting?) Sam had come home to find a very large, solid yet soft, red and black couch taking up most of his living room with his old couch nowhere to be found. At the time, he hadn't bothered to question it. Mostly because the colors of said couch told a very obvious tale.

 

At least, he'd thought so right up until he had actually visited Steve's new apartment at the Tower. The blond had made lots of "Oh, how did _that_ get there," motions, but Sam knew the truth:

 

That Steve had had the damn thing so long that he'd forgotten that he'd stolen it.

 

Anyway, Sam was napping on what was now Steve's couch.

 

He was startled into awareness by a sharp thud against the wall behind him. Sam found himself rolling up and over the back of the couch before he was even awake enough to register that he was no longer sleeping. He woke up properly a couple steps away from the couch and frowned slightly in confusion.

 

Another thump, even louder this time, reminded Sam of what he gotten up for. Oddly enough, the room right behind the living room was the full bath (Sam honestly wasn't sure if that was a sign of laziness or pragmatism, but he wasn't about to complain). He knocked lightly on the door three times. "Hey. Everything okay in there?"

 

There was a long pause at that. "...Stuck," came Bucky's voice, caught on the tail end of a sigh.

 

Sam checked the doorknob and found it thankfully unlocked. He peeked inside and, rather than being stuck inside of a... something (he didn't even know what he had been expecting, a drain?), Bucky had the fingers his metal hand twisted through his hair.

 

Naked, soaked, curled up and staring up at him through a pair of stupidly long eyelashes made Bucky seem like a really forlorn looking cat.

 

It was fucking adorable.

 

Sam bit back a smile and made his way over to the large tub. He sat down at the edge and took the metal arm in one hand, gently untwisting chocolate colored strands from between the fingers.

 

"What happened, man? This can't be the first time you've washed your hair recently."

 

Bucky curled in on himself further and Sam felt more than heard the sigh that escaped. He wasn't sure if the man was feeling guilty or frustrated, but paused for a moment to rub gentle circles in Bucky's scalp. Bucky immediately leaned back into it and Sam huffed out a laugh.

 

"I usually do it one-handed. Just...forgot, I guess. Didn't think it'd get this bad."

 

Sam tried to imagine washing this hair one handed. It was doable, but his arm was aching just _thinking_ about having to do that. So he said as much.

 

"Seriously, man. There's no point in punishing yourself like that. I'd rather just do it for you."

 

Bucky tilted his head back and blinked wide blue eyes up at him. "Really?"

 

Well, not really. But fuck if Sam intended to take those words back with this guy staring at him all hopeful and pretty and...wet. _Shit._

 

Sam turned his attention back to actually untangling Bucky's hair, with the focus of a man attempting to disarm a bomb. "Sure. Why not?"

 

Bucky smiled shyly, really just a small upward quirk of the lips, and if his normal smile was even half as warm as that one was, Sam could see why Steve'd been so lost on the guy for so long.

 

Once he'd finally managed to free Bucky's hair from his arm, he grabbed the shampoo bottle, one of those gentle Berry Blast shampoo/body wash for kids type things that Natasha kept switching Steve's soaps out for, and got to work. By the time that he was finished, Bucky had uncurled himself and slumped down so far that he was basically lying down on his side in the bathtub, leaving Sam to kneel next to the tub to reach him properly.

 

Sam was pretty sure the man had just fallen asleep on him.

 

Really deeply asleep, actually.

 

So deep that he hadn't woken up by the time Sam had finished. So deep that he didn't wake during the laborious ten minute journey that it took to drag the man up out of the tub, dry him, carry him to his room, and put him to bed.

 

It was possible that Barnes was faking it. If he was, he was damn good at it.

 

\----xxxx----

 

It developed into sort of a habit, Bucky calling Sam over once or twice a week for a spa day. On the fourth time, Bucky had taken hold of Sam's hand when he'd reached for the shampoo.

 

"Let me do yours."

 

Sam glanced at him, at his own face in the mirror and back again. "Not much to wash there, buddy."

 

Bucky shrugged and reached up to run his flesh hand lightly over the short tuft of hair on Sam's head. "It feels good. So why not?"

 

He didn't actually have an answer for that.

 

So, with a shrug, Sam stripped down to his boxers and climbed into the tub in front of Bucky.

 

Having Bucky wash his hair was an interesting experience. It was less washing his hair and more playing with it. He would twist the short hair into little curls. Huff out a silent laugh then untwist them. Then rub some more shampoo into his hair. Neither of them had actually physically washed themselves yet but more than half of the bottle was already used up.

 

It was worth it though.

 

\----xxxx----

 

Bucky sat in the tub with his arms folded across the edge as Sam kneeled behind him, half bent over, and combed some conditioner through Bucky’s hair, two inches longer now than it had been when they'd started the ritual a couple weeks back. Bucky was naked (he saw no point in wearing clothes inside of a _bathtub_ ), though Sam was still wearing his boxer shorts.

 

Sam was actually pretty focused on tugging out a particularly aggressive looking knot without creating a bald spot. Which meant that he didn't immediately notice that they weren't alone. So one moment they were just two guys platonically washing each others' hair like bros, the next moment they were two guys naked and wet and soapy in a bathtub, probably as a precursor to amateur porn.

 

They stared at each other in silence for a long moment and Sam could actually _see_ Natasha running all of their recent public interactions through her head and compiling a conclusion. She seemed both happy and unhappy with her results, a small smile building on her lips even as her brow crinkled. She let herself lean against the doorway.

 

"So, how long have _you two_ been a thing?" She asked, trying for something light and teasing.

 

Sam rolled his eyes. " _We're_ not a thing. _This_ is a thing. I wash his hair," Sam said, tilting his head in the direction of Bucky's metal arm, "and he pretends to wash my hair. Everyone's happy."

 

Natasha blinked, honestly surprised. "Oh," she said, her voice soft.

 

Sam gave her a smile and patted the floor in front of the tub next to Bucky's folded arms. She raised her eyebrows at him so Sam raised his back. After a moment, she relented and came over and sat herself down carefully against the edge.

 

Sam placed a hand on her forehead and tilted her head back so that he could give her a wide smile. She smiled softly in return and closed her eyes. He got to work on her hair, a little surprised at how soft and well maintained she kept it. Though he probably shouldn’t have been thinking of the illustrious Black Widow’s grooming habits in comparison to other assassins like the Winter Soldier, who didn’t have grooming habits, and Hawkeye, who…somehow had worse grooming habits than Bucky.

 

One thing he could say, however, was clearly all assassins basically turned into lap cats under a decent head and shoulder massage.

 

\----xxxx----

 

There was less than 48 hours between when Natasha joined their group and when Steve walked in on them for the first time. It shouldn't have been surprising. They were on his floor, in his main bathroom, in the middle of the day.

 

Steve had simply walked into the bathroom without knocking and started with, "Bucky, have you seen my good comb? I thought I'd left it in the other bathroom but I can't for the life of me figure out where it went." Steve was leaning over the counter, already rooting about in the large medicine cabinet above the sink when he seemed to finally register the fact that there was more than one person in the room with him.

 

Steve stilled and the squinted at the mirror for a moment turning to face them. Sam was still in his boxers but Bucky and Natasha were both stark naked (because body positivity combined with a distinct lack of modesty was another thing all assassins shared). Steve blinked at them slowly. After a moment, his expression morphed into something like curiosity and an irritating amount of amusement.

 

"Huh. Didn't know you had a type," he said.

 

_"Oh my god!_ Can't a guy just engage in some platonic hair washing without everyone thinking we've got shit going on?"

 

Natasha tilted her head back to glance at Sam with a suspiciously innocent smile. "So that's a _no_ to the full body dazzle massage?"

 

Steve grinned widely at that, his eyebrows up to meet his hairline. "Is that what the kids are calling it these days?"

 

Sam clamped a hand over Natasha's mouth before she could speak and before he had a chance to think better of it. " _No,_ that's not what we're calling it- I don't even know what the hell that is!"

 

“It’s a full body massage with exfoliating glitter body oil,” Bucky offered simply.

 

Sam couldn’t tell if it was a sign of progress or corruption (Natasha induced? To _ny induced_?) that Bucky knew that.

 

Steve let out a soft hum, actually sounding _interested_. “That’s not uncomfortable? For _places?”_

 

Bucky shrugged lightly without lifting his head. “The glitter’s not that big and they don’t put it inside you. There’s a shop off of 16th, if you’re interested.”

 

“Sounds fun. We should stop by some HOLY SHIT, NATASHA, WHY?”

 

Sam choked out a laugh, only barely having gotten out of the way when Natasha picked up the showerhead and aimed a blast of cold water at the clothed Captain. Steve let out a sound that was part horror at the betrayal and part _revenge_ and dashed at the tub. He put one of his stupidly large hands over the nozzle causing the cold water to be sprayed back at the three of them.

 

While Steve and Natasha fought over the showerhead, Sam shifted around them to try to get out of the freezing cold. Bucky caught his eye and then glanced at the shampoo that had fallen to the floor in the tussle.

 

Sam loved Steve but Natasha was his shower bro now and bros had to stick together, right?

 

The sharp full body shudder and high pitched hitched gasp that he got from pouring half the bottle down the back of Steve’s slacks was _almost_ worth being grabbed in a bear hug and having that shower head (still blasting stupidly cold water) shoved down the front of his boxers.

 

Sam also learned that all assassins were totally fucking _useless_ when they were laughing disloyally at his suffering. **  
**


	2. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm kinda realizing that it's probably gonna be a LONG time before I'm back in the proper head space to update things properly again. BUT, I at least wanted to post this part since I've been holding onto it FOREVER.
> 
> (the chapter count will change if I ever decide to update it)
> 
> Enjoy!

No one could deny that the four of them were friendly (as friendly as they could be, in some cases). But they were just buddies with a weird sense of boundaries.

Apparently, that’s not how they looked on the outside.

“Bathe yet?”

Sam looked up from his sandwich. He was in communal kitchen, taking advantage of the extreme variety of spices and seasonings in Bruce’s spice rack. Tony was nearby, fiddling with the coffee maker for the third time that hour, no doubt trying to make the thing fly or make pancakes.

Steve had come to stand with his hip against the island counter, still in his workout clothes with a small towel draped around his neck, a light sheen of sweat on his skin.

Sam let out a soft hum as he finished chewing. “Not yet. Gonna join me?”

Steve nodded, using the towel to wipe some of the sweat away from his forehead. “I think I’m going to run a shower first just to,” he made a vague waving motion up and down over himself, “but you can meet me there. Bucky’ll probably want to join too.”

“What about Natasha?”   

“She’s out with Hill, so you’ll have to wait until she gets back on Monday if you want her to join you.”

It was only when Sam opened his mouth to reply to that that he noticed Tony, still standing off to the side with his tiny wrench in hand, frozen mid-wrench with his eyes wide and his face slightly flushed down to the neck. Steve blinked at Sam and then caught sight of Tony in his reflection off the chrome counter-tops. He smiled then, his “I’m about to fuck _so much shit up_ , play along” smile and Sam had to fight to keep his face straight when Steve leaned down close and, with one hand splayed on Sam’s chest, pressed a firm but chaste kiss on his cheek.

“Don’t keep me waiting _too long_ ,” he murmured, his tone filled with a great deal of (fake) promise.

And then he just _left them_ , walking away with a light swing to his hips. Tony watched Steve go and then slowly turned to stare at him with wide eyes.

Sam got it though.

Multiple sex partners (even at one time) were a _very_ different thing from outright polyamory.

“So…” Tony said slowly.

“Nope.” Sam stood up and set his plates in the sink before turning back to face Tony.  He offered the man a smirk and a shrug. “Sorry, I don’t know you well enough to have this conversation. They’re _your_ teammates, right?”

 

\----xxxx----

 

Tony Stark was apparently a fucking _gossip_.

It was the only explanation for why, when he opened the door to his apartment that night and closed it behind him, he suddenly found himself shoved backwards, his back pressed up against the door. Clint, looking surprisingly menacing in the dark for someone that often came across as clumsy as shit in his off time, gave him a full teethed smile. “ _Hey_ , Sam,” he said, his tone low but voice light.

“H-hey, Clint. What’s up?”

“You. And Steve. And _Natasha_ . You understand that these guys are my _friends,_ right?”

Sam slowly squinted at him. “Are...are you giving me the shovel talk?” he asked.

Clint offered him a narrow-eyed smile before he glanced to his left and back. Sam tilted his head in that direction.

There was a shovel propped up against the wall near the opening to his kitchen.

Sam stared at it for a very long time before finally turning back to Clint. “You brought a shovel with you. You brought _an actual shovel_ to your shovel talk.”

Clint actually had the decency to look confused by that. “Yeah. Obviously. ‘Shovel talk,’ hence the shovel.”

“No. No, that’s not- you don’t actually need a shovel for this. No one actually brings a shovel with them for this.”

“Natasha did.”

Sam groaned low at that. “Natasha _would_ ,” he admitted. “But yeah, no, that’s not normally a thing. Also, completely unrelated, I’m not actually dating her. Them. Anyone.”

Clint squinted at him and leaned back a little. His eyes shifted minutely, as if checking for any signs of lying. Finding none, he frowned. “Okay… Then why does Tony think-”

“ _Steve_.”

“Steve told Tony that you guys are all together?”

“Steve mentioned this hair-grooming thing that we’ve been doing and then kissed me on the cheek when he realized that Stark was reading too deep into it. Technically, there was no actual lying involved.”

Clint groaned and stepped away, flopping face down on Sam’s couch. There was pause where he stretched out his limbs and snuggled deeper into the soft fabric with a sigh. “‘Technically, there was no actual lying involved,’ is going to be the tagline of the movie I end up writing about that guy.”

  
“Make sure to credit me on that.”

 

 


End file.
